Patience for Pedestrians
by Sapphire225
Summary: G1. One shot. It is pretty ironic title, for this is what Sunstreaker completely lacks. A silly little fic for all those drivers who deal w/ those people who make turtles look like track stars! xD Written fairly well. Read and criticize/review!


Blessed day thee reviewers

Blessed day thee reviewers! Originally, I was going to update my stories, but I think I'll have to wait until the four day week-end we have coming up where I live (AP classes are tough! Don't let anyone else tell you different!) and decided to just make another one shot that just came into my head. Well, here it goes…

Disclaimer: Movieverse Jazz and the G1 Autobots wouldn't have died had I owned the Transformers, however, There might be hope that Michael Bay will bring back the Jazzman in TF2

* * *

He lived for over millions of vorns, fighting for the Autobot cause, although in all honesty, he might have had at least half of the rebelliousness that was of that harbored into the Dinobot leader. He fought innumerable battles, from different planets to different galaxies, seeing his fair share of bloodshed which had become of his accomplices and fellow mechs. Several times he had been on a receiving end of a glowing barrel, feeling its heat radiate from within before delivering a painful blow to his body, some even shattering his spark chamber, just barely with his spark intact.

It was at least six million years when he and his fellow Autobots had arrived to the very small planet in the Solar System located in the galaxy which was labeled, "The Milky Way," by the small organic life forms that inhabited that Primus-forsaken sector they occupied, several light-years away from their mechanical homeworld, Cybertron.

Now, Earth wouldn't have been so intolerable if it weren't for a few main factors.

It seemed that Earth had climate changes almost every time he turned his head. It would be of a stable warm temperature and clear skies the first second before it would turn into heavy downpour within a few astroseconds. Oh how he hated the rain. Those innumerable water molecules always did a number on his perfect yellow armor. Always. Especially when mud was involved. Oh how he hated the mud. Far much more than the rain itself, for it actually dried onto his radiant paintjob and he would spend at least a joor to make sure there wasn't even a speck on him.

Second, it was the other faction that accompanied them. The slaggers called the Decepticons. It was bad enough that the entire crew were to stick on Earth, but with the Decepticons? Frag no. Although, he did enjoy battle, he winced every time he heard Starscream's screechy voice. He swore it would make his audio receptors short circuit one day. Sideswipe joked that his name was fitting. He was telling the truth no doubt. And Rumble. How could he forget that midget of a Decepticon? Those pile drivers had put a dent in him once and the Decepticons had to order a retreat as the smaller mech now had sparking joints sticking out from where they had used to be.

However, those two combined made Earth slightly uncomfortable.

It was the humans that took the Energon cake.

Those puny insignificant bags of flesh and organs made his stay the most unpleasant. Spike, that young human, wasn't so bad. He was probably the most tolerable of the humans, although his frequent questions did tend to annoy the mech. But as a whole, they were all little pit born glitchers.

Especially the one standing right in front of him.

After a lecture and trip to the brig by Prowl due to his speeding, he had to follow Earth laws for the time being. In which he could only go, what, at least lower than seventy miles per hour? By Primus, these humans moved incredibly slow, although he did kept in mind that they were inferior little creatures that couldn't even _run _half that speed, lest it be a marathon runner, which apparently wasn't this one that was wasting his time.

A teenage femme, somewhere between sixteen to seventeen, was chatting incessantly onto that tiny primitive communication device in which the humans had labeled a cellular phone, or "cell phone" for short. She had long blond hair with _fake _blue eyes, dressed in a blue miniskirt, short red and white Timberland boots and a red tank top with the words "FITCH" spelt in bold white letters widely across her slight too _inflated_ chest.

Now the little premature glitch mouse wouldn't have been irksome had the little thing not been moving as slow as Trailbreaker carrying a heavy load, going at least 2 centimeters an hour.

Sunstreaker's optic twitched as the little human femme continued to speak into the tiny device.

"-And she, like, TOTALLY forgot and I was like, 'NO WAY', and she was like, 'Heck to the Yeah!' and I was like, 'That skank better remember!' and-…"

"_Ahem!" _

The young adolescent child turned her head around to the yellow Lamborghini that had been waiting there for at _least _two minutes while the girl stood in the street. "I have some place to go! So if you don't mind…"

The girl just blinked for a second, staring at the yellow vehicle for a few seconds before pulling her phone back to her ear. "Anyway Courtney, like I was saying, she didn't call me at all and I had to…"

Sunstreaker let out an audible groan as the blonde seemed to have completely disregarded the Autobot. This was beginning to frag him off, big time. But to avoid the heavy duty long sentence Prowl had threatened to give the mech, he restrained himself from knocking the girl all the way to Earth's moon.

"Excuse me."

The blondie looked at the vehicle, an annoyed look on her face.

"I don't think you heard me correctly. _You _are _blocking _the _way!"_

The girl grumbled a bit. "You can wait!"

"No. I can't." The yellow Cybertronian retorted. It was evident in his voice that she was trying to blow his circuits.

The young woman scoffed. "Then, like, go around!"

Sunstreaker felt his annoyance turn into something incredible closed to livid as the girl went back to her phone. "Geez! Courtney, you won't believe this guy-"

That was it

Sunstreaker revved up his engines before rolling two meters forward within seconds, earning a shriek from the teenage girl as she dropped her phone and fell down as the car came alarming close to her body.

"Just _try _me little girl, and _see _if I _don't _run you over."

The girl scrambled to her feet, letting out a small whimper before running out of the way of a satisfied Sunstreaker who watched as she ran to the sidewalk, giving him the opportunity to go forward without a hassle.

However, that didn't happen, for just when he was about to proceed through the route, he heard the girl yell out "That's why your paintjob sucks!"

* * *

"Sunstreaker, what is the meaning of this?" And irritated Prowl asked the subordinate mech who was sitting in the chair across the Datsun's desk.

"What are you talking about?" The vainer twin asked, disdain coating his voice

The datsun's optics flickered as his panels drooped. He handed the yellow twin a small photograph, which he'd be sure to hang in his room once his punishment was served.

On the photograph was the young girl, tied upside down around a lamp post. Her hair dangled below her, the red hair band clearly had fallen off into the sewer. It seemed that the jean skirt hiked up a little _too _far, as her white panties seemed to be in complete view for everyone, particularly male humans, to see. She had a look of shock placed across her face, not believing what had just happen, or so that was what the picture said.

Sunstreaker let a wicked grin grace his face. "Oh that."

Prowl's frown grew. "You have half a breem to explain yourself"

Sunstreaker just looked up at the Datsun, a smirk laced upon his face. "Let's just say, I regret _nothing._ By the way, may I make a copy of this?

* * *

Yeah, I know I could've ended it better, but I became kinda lazy. Anyway, just another one-shot I felt like doing. Hoped you like it. Please review and criticize, and-oh crap! I gotta finish Screamerella!


End file.
